To Be Gorgeous
by CampionSayn
Summary: After the war, it became readily apparent that the Malfoys had grown exponentially closer in terms of devotion to each other. But, hopefully, Narcissa would never see just how true this was between Lucius and Draco. LMxDM, one-shot. Merry X-Mas!


Title: To Be Gorgeous  
>Summary: After the war, it became readily apparent that the Malfoys had grown exponentially closer in terms of devotion to each other. But, hopefully, Narcissa would never see just how true this was between Lucius and Draco. LMxDM, one-shot.<br>Disclaimer: Heheheheheh, I own this franchise? No, I believe anyone who claims that is insane.  
>Warning: Basically light parentchild incest, Lucius/Draco, mild spoilers for DH.  
>Dedication: To my dear Gorgeous Stack of Pancakes whom is doing me a favor in return for this fic and a pound of ungrounded coffee beans. Long story. But yes, though I am writing this, it is her doing, not mine—otherwise one would never catch me dead writing this pairing.<p>

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><p><em>-:-<br>…The world in silent stillness lay,  
>To hear the angels sing…<br>-It Came Upon a Midnight Clear._

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><p>The steps the two platinum blondes took, each in step with the other—their height from head to toe was nearly identical, after all, despite one being so much younger—echoed through the whole of the wide and open forest. The crispness of the fresh snow and the way the sun reflected on it and then onto them made them look almost heavenly, despite them being—somewhere, a Weasley surely laughed at the thought—anything but.<p>

Draco and Lucius Malfoy stayed close, shoulders only just touching to keep themselves and each other equally warm, as Draco held the rope attached to the long, sturdy sled he dragged after them. Narcissa had sent them both out in search of a Christmas tree. Neither of the men argued with her; it was a good exercise in doing things for themselves now that every single one of the house-elves they'd interviewed to hire had not sent them back a notice and none of the Malfoys had high hopes in being contacted back any time soon.

Then again, they weren't really complaining; they had their freedom from Azkaban—ironically, thanks to Weasley and Potter testifying that when the Snatchers had brought the Trio to the manor, Draco had attempted to lead Bellatrix into thinking that they were not who the Snatchers thought them to be, as well as explaining the behavior Draco exhibited throughout the whole year with his parents in the way of reluctance—and were finding that, despite the fact their hands were no longer smooth and they were developing muscle pains, life doing things for themselves wasn't half bad.

Narcissa had stayed at the manor—_though, it could hardly be called that for a while as they were still trying to fix it up after a whole year of the other Death Eaters (may the lot that had forsaken them rot in Azkaban forever) breaking it down and leaving it a mess; the only things in the place really fixed being the roof, the kitchen and their bedrooms_—to attempt to make that evening's dinner (a sort of pre-requisite to see if she should even _try_to make Christmas dinner without some sort of help) and the two of them had to find, in her words "a tree that would be nice and large, but not so much that it would make a hole through the roof and could be brought in without magic if needed"; which was yet proving to be quite a challenge.

Draco hummed under his breath a tune he had heard in Muggle London on his way to Diagon Alley, sort of jazz oriented in a way that got the soundtrack in his head, even though he could not for the life of him understand what the English translation turned to. The humming echoed the clearing wide outward into the trees and he didn't notice his father giving him a curious look as Draco spotted a tree that stood twice as tall as both of them together and pointed out to it, walking ahead, with his long green and black checkered scarf trailing behind him.

"How about this one?" Draco asked, a slight smile on his face as he came to a stop at the giant of a pine, black gloved fingertips just touching the prickles that jutted out to stick and bite at those it thought unfriendly.

Lucius wrapped the right side of his own green scarf tighter around his neck and shuffled forward, one foot for one second becoming engorged in a small plot of much deeper snow before he pulled his leg all the way up and out, his black pant-leg covered in white debris up near his knee. He muttered a quiet 'Bugger' under his breath, but continued forward, silver blue eyes tracing up and down just how lean and tall his son had become—just a moment, image imprinting of Draco smiling, strong lining along his lips curved at both ends into dimples that made him more handsome to Lucius than he should—before calculating Draco's six foot plus height, the maybe ten foot difference of the tree and then tried to think of how Narcissa would react to them dragging in a tree that big.

The elder Malfoy ran a sleek, similarly black leather gloved hand through his now fairly short hair. Since the war had stripped him of the long-flowing locks he once had, Lucius didn't see a point in growing it out again when it had taken him forever to grow it the first thirty years of his life and he was finding it refreshing to just run his fingers through it in the morning and be off. Draco's eyes watched his father's movements and pretended that the blood rushing to his head was because of his body trying to heat him up from the chill because of the snow and weather. Not because he found his father to be a little attractive with the way his limbs moved in his black robes. No, no, it was the cold.

"Well," Lucius drawled out, aligning himself next to Draco, placing a palm atop his son's head, "If we cast a shortening spell on it, trim it about two feet, it should be fine."

Lucius ruffled Draco's hair a little, smiled and then took out his wand. Draco's blush deepened to a color similar to what his skin changed to in the summer when he didn't take proper measures to protect himself and he bent over to position the sleigh just behind the tree.

Draco's ears seemed to split with the crack of his father's spell directing to the tree's bottom to splinter through and through and, out of a habit Draco had developed during the war, the younger blonde, wrapped his hand around his father's much larger hand and pulled him back a step or two. Lucius grinned even more merrily and the tree landed expertly upon the sleigh, its long reaching green swaying and dropping down white, white snow onto more snow like a big green ballerina shedding silk clothing in a sequence of the Nutcracker before the Sugar Plum Fairies descended to the stage.

Both hands squeezed again, black on black as Lucius put away his wand and Draco picked up the rope to the sleigh again.

Their shoulders meshed together for the walk back, heat mingling between them again, even more-so with their palms together.


End file.
